Date: Thu, 4 Sep 2003 09:55:02 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tim Mead <timmead88@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dr. Tim and the Boys, ch. 27

The following fictional narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events
between men.  If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.

In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms.  In
the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always
practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to other sites
are allowed without the author's consent.

Thanks as always to Tom W., my patient, hardworking editor, and occasional
co-author.  Thanks also to Evan, Patrick, Ash, and Mickey.


Timmead88@yahoo.com
Chapter 27:  Developments


Jared had to walk nearly three miles to the Cousins' house from the mall
that evening.  He took back streets as much as possible because his jeans
were soaked with urine.  He still was stared at by a number of passers-by,
and he wanted to die, but he didn't see nearly as many people as he would
have if he'd gone the most direct route.  He alternated being scared by the
threats of the six tall guys who had accosted him and his friends in the
mall parking lot and being furious that Richie left him there to walk home.
Some friend!

He was in luck in that his parents were not home yet from playing bridge
with friends.  He could see, however, that there was a light on in
Jessica's room, which meant that his sister was home, but then it was after
11:00, their curfew on school nights.  He let himself in with his key and
went quietly upstairs, hoping he could get past the door of Jess's room
without having to stop and talk.  As he passed her door, she said, "Hey
Jare, how was the movie?"

"Not bad," he said.  "I'll get changed and then come see ya for a minute,
OK?"  For years he and his twin sister had talked a while about their day
before they separated to go to their own rooms and go to bed.

Jared stripped and threw all the urine-soaked clothes in his laundry
basket.  Then he took a shower.  When he had dried himself, he pulled on
sweatpants, a white tee shirt, and white socks.  He took the soiled
clothing to the basement, where he threw them into the washing machine.  He
added enough other dirty clothes to make a load and started the machine.
He knew his mother would fuss at him the next day for not separating his
jeans from his underwear, shirt, and socks, but that was better than having
her find the stinky things in his laundry basket.

On his way through the kitchen he grabbed some cookies from the cookie can
and got himself a glass of milk.  He yelled up the stairs, "Jess, you want
somethin' from the kitchen?"

"No, thanks."

He wolfed the cookies, drank the milk, put the glass in the dishwasher, and
went upstairs.  He entered his sister's room and sat on the bed.  "So, Sis,
whassup?  How was your German Club meeting?"

"You ask me what's up?  You want to know about German Club?  You come up
the front walk with your jeans soaked in piss, and you ask me questions?"

"You could see my jeans were, uh, wet?"

"Of course, dufus, the porch light was on.  What happened?"

"Well, it wasn't piss.  I spilled a Mountain Dew in my lap."

She turned away from her desk to look directly at him.  "Jared, I can tell
the difference. When you walked by my door, dear brother, you smelled like
piss, not pop.  And why didn't Richie bring you home?"

He had never been able to lie to her.  "OK, it was piss.  And Richie
wouldn't let me in his car `cause he was afraid I'd get it on the
upholstery.  I walked home from the mall."

"Poor baby.  But, Jare, how did you happen to piss your pants?  You haven't
done that since you were about ten."

He hung his head and said, "Oh, God, Sis.  I'm SO scared!"


* * *


PHILIP:


After the first SGA meeting, Lori Reiter and Mark Mason came up and
introduced themselves.  Actually, I think she wanted to talk with me and
Mark was with her.  She's a cute chick.  Beautiful eyes, sexy voice, nice
figure.  But Mason is a real stud.  Dark curly hair, intense blue eyes, and
dimples.  I knew who he was because he plays on the varsity baseball team.
Too bad he's straight.  But they do make a good-looking couple.

Lori is really intense.  Well, I guess I should be able to relate to that.
She said she knew Steve Metz and was angry because the police hadn't made
an arrest in that case yet.  She asked me if I knew the names of the three
guys they think attacked Metz.  I told her.  She didn't write them down or
anything, but I knew she would remember those names.  I don't know just
what she had in mind, but she had a determined look on her face.  Then she
smiled, she and Mark both shook hands with me, and they went over to see
Trey Withers and Geoff Benton for a moment.  I wanted to see those guys,
too.  Someone delayed me, though, so I got there just after Mark and Lori
left.  That's when I suggested going for a beer.  Trey declined, but Geoff
and I went to Noplace where we saw that really hot dude with the red hair.


* * *


MAX:


After fall semester classes began, Tim and I told Cedric he was excused
from breakfast duty since he had an early class.  I thanked Ced profusely
for all the wonderful breakfasts he had fixed for us during the latter part
of the summer.  "No problem, Max.  I've enjoyed getting to know you better
at our breakfast-table talks.  And you know I'm sorry about being so mean
to you back at the time of that first party, don't you?"

"I do indeed, Ced."

He hugged me.

After classes began, Tim and I decided to fix our own breakfasts separately
since we had different schedules, but we continued to run together every
morning, weather permitting.

One morning, as we had slowed to a walk, I asked, "What are you doing at
lunch time, Tim?"

"No plans. Got something in mind?"

"Yeah, we need to talk.  Shall I stop by Fein's and bring something to your
office?"

"Actually, I'd rather get out of the office for a while.  Otherwise, we'd
probably be interrupted, and the faculty lounge will be crowded and noisy
at that time.  Why don't I come to you?"

"OK, but it's my turn to pay."

He gave me an exasperated look and said, "Yeah, whatever.  As if we need to
keep track."

We had reached the entrance to his house, so I swatted him on the butt and
said, "I'll be there whenever you can make it.  Oh, and Tim, I'd like a
reuben sub.  Those are great.  And since we're not arguing about who's
paying, how about some coleslaw?"

"Shall I bring wine and dessert, too, Father?" he laughed.

"Nah, that's all right this time."


He got there about 12:30 carrying a box from Fein's with the sandwiches,
coleslaw, and lots of paper napkins.  I brought us water and had made a
fresh pot of coffee.  We sat at a table in the parish hall.

As we munched, we talked about his classes, the university's football
prospects, the Canterbury Club, and various other things.  Finally, he
wadded up the sheet of paper that had been wrapped around his sub and put
it and the slaw container back in the box.

"OK, Hewitt.  Spill it."  When I didn't answer immediately, he said, "Max,
you said we need to talk.  What's up?"

"Tim, I've told Trey something that I should have told you first."

"Trey and I can practically read each others' minds sometimes, so I'd
probably find out sooner or later anyway.  What's the big deal?"  He
continued to look at me with his intensely green eyes.  Then he said,
"Whoa, this is serious, isn't it?  I'm sorry, Max.  I didn't mean to be
flip.  What is it?"

"I've never told you about Andrew."

"Andrew?"

"He was my lover."

"You had a lover and you never told me?"

"Well, we can't talk much when we're running.  I didn't want to dump all
this on you when I first got to town, and later it just seemed as if the
time was never right.  I'm sorry."

He looked at me very seriously.  "You don't need to apologize, Max.  Do you
want to tell me about him now?"

"Yeah, his name was Andrew, Andrew Garrison.  I met him in seminary."  I
smiled as I remembered.  "Timmy, he was so beautiful!  He had gone to the
College of the Pacific and majored in sociology, but by the time he was at
the end of his sophomore year there, he knew he wanted to be a priest.  He
never wanted to be a suburban parish priest, though.  He talked about being
in an inner-city church or perhaps doing field work overseas."

Tim continued to look at me intently, but he didn't say anything.  When I
paused, he just nodded at me to go on.

"As I said, he was beautiful. Radiant.  His mother was Chinese, his dad an
American.  Andrew's Asian genes showed.  He had straight black hair, dark
eyes.  He was a little guy like us, built more like you than me.  He had
enormous energy.  Always getting excited about things.  Class projects.
Things to do to help people.  And always with this intensity.  He couldn't
sit still.  Sometimes he wore me out.  And he made love the same way."

Tim smiled.

"It was known around the seminary that we were lovers, but we were careful,
so no one said anything.  Everyone loved Andrew.  You just had to!"

"Max, I can tell how much you loved him.  But something must have happened.
Do you feel like telling me about that?"

Tears came to my eyes as I thought back on my sweet man and how much I had
missed him.  "Yeah, Tim.  You probably remember three summers ago some
people from my church were killed in an ambush in Nicaragua?"

"Yes, of course.  Don't tell me . . .?"

"Andrew was one of them."

By this time tears were running down my cheeks.  I couldn't help it.  Tim
came around the table, pulled a chair over, and sat beside me.  He put his
arms around me and pulled my head down on his shoulder.  He was running his
fingers through my hair as he said, "Oh, baby, I wish I had known!  How
awful it must be for you!"

I didn't say anything.  It felt good to have him hold me, so I didn't move.

Just then Father John came into the parish hall where Tim and I were
sitting.  He looked at us, smiled, and said, "I'm sorry.  I've interrupted.
I'll talk with you later, Max."

"Thanks, Father," Tim said.  "We need a few more minutes here I think."

"Take all the time you need," the rector said as he turned to go back to
his office.

I pulled away, reached in my pocket for my handkerchief, and blew my nose.
"I'm sorry, Tim."  Then I smiled.  "Father John probably thinks you and I
are lovers."

"Well, Max, I do love you, you know.  I am glad you finally were able to
tell me about Andrew.  You must miss him terribly."

"I do, Timmy, I do.  It's easier now, and being busy helps, but of course I
miss Andrew.  I'll always love him and always miss him, but you don't know
how much it has helped to have you back in my life.  You and all the great
guys who've welcomed me into your group."

"We're your family now, Max.  All the guys have told me how happy they are
to have you with us. But, listen, my friend.  When you are having tough
moments, please call me.  I can't be Andrew for you, but we have always
been like brothers.  I can listen.  Or just be there.  I've got plenty of
hugs for you, you know."

Damn!  I had begun to cry again.  "Timmy, you won't misunderstand when I
say how much I love you, will you?"

"Of course not, Max.  I love you too."  He hugged me again.  "Now, I have a
class in half an hour. Should I call the department and cancel it?"

"No way!  You've been my rock, as always.  But you get to class and I'll go
see what Father John needs.  I think I had better tell him a little about
Andrew so he won't misunderstand the scene he witnessed here a minute ago."

"I'd be flattered to be thought your lover."  Then he grinned.  "But we'd
really have to be careful about Cedric."

That made me laugh.  "Give Ced a hug for me.  It's OK to tell him about
Andrew.  I think he should know, in fact.  And, Tim, thanks."

"Sure, babe.  I'll call soon to see how you're doing."


* * *


STEVE:


I decided I had imposed on Trey and Chaz long enough, so I insisted on
moving back to my apartment before classes began.

I told them so one evening at dinner.

"Steve," Trey said, "you know you are welcome to stay as long as
necessary."

"Damn right," Chaz chimed in.

"Look, guys, I don't know how to thank you for taking me in.  Don't know
what I would have done if you hadn't.  But I've been a pain in the ass long
enough.  You are entitled to your privacy, for one thing."

Chaz grinned at Trey.  "Oh, we've been managing, haven't we, Tiger?"

Trey grinned back and said, "Yeah, I guess we have."

Chaz, suddenly serious, said, "Steve, I do think it's safe for you to move
back into your place.  I'm pretty certain those punk kids aren't going to
bother you again."

Trey looked at him with one eyebrow raised.  "And how can you be so sure?"

Chaz grinned his lopsided grin.  "Never mind.  Both of you trust me.  I
don't think those pipsqueaks are gonna be any more trouble.  BUT!  Steve,
you've gotta be careful, man.  Don't be outside after dark alone.  Stay
where there are crowds.  Keep your eyes open.  Sooner or later, the cops
are gonna get those little bastards, but until they do, you need to stay
alert, OK?"

"Yeah, Chaz.  I get you.  And thanks, guy, for your concern."

I knew he was right, that I needed to be careful.  I didn't want a repeat
of what happened to me.  My ribs were still sore from the first time.  But,
shit, life has to go on, right?


One evening at the beginning of the first week of fall semester classes,
the phone in my apartment rang.

It was a woman with a very sexy voice.  I recognized it immediately.

"Hi, Steve.  This is Lori Reiter.  Remember me?"

"Who could forget a beautiful woman like you?" I said.

She laughed, and her laugh made my cock begin to stiffen.  "Oh, Steve, you
are very suave.  How are you feeling?  Any pain left?"

"Not enough to worry about, Lori. How are you and Mark?"

"We are both well, thanks.  And we are hoping to see you soon.  I have
talked with Rebecca Stein.  She is a very nice person, I think.  Let me
give you her phone number.  I think she would be willing to go to dinner
and perhaps a film with you, Mark, and me this weekend."

"Lori, that sounds great!"

She gave me the phone number, and I copied it down.

"But, Steve, I must warn you.  Rebecca remembers you as being somewhat,
shall we say, brash.  I told her that, from what I had heard, and from my
experience with you recently, you had changed.  I hope you won't be
offended if I tell you that she said she thought you were bright,
good-looking, but something of an arrogant son of a bitch."

"Woops!  Well, Lori, I guess I deserved that.  How did you persuade Rebecca
to agree to this date?"

She chuckled, and I loved that Dietrich sort of voice.  "As I've told you,
I assured her that you had grown up over the summer and that I think you
are a very nice boy."

"Wow!  What a tribute.  Thanks, Lori.  I'll call Rebecca this evening."

"Yes, you should do that.  Please call me back this evening or tomorrow to
let me know the results of your talk, OK?"

"Yeah, that sounds great.  And, Lori, thanks!"

She laughed again, and by this time I had a full-fledged boner.  "You are
quite welcome, Steve.  Good luck with Rebecca."

"Thanks, Lori.  Give my best to Mark, please."

"I shall, Steve.  Goodbye for now."

"Bye."

Well, to make a long story short, I screwed up my courage and called this
girl I remembered from my class with Tim Mead as being really bright,
outgoing, and pretty sexy.  I wasn't sure why she would agree to go out
with me.  I chalked it up to Lori's persuasive powers.  Come to think of
it, why would Lori want to get involved?  I decided it best not to wonder
too much about that, but just to be grateful for all the good things that
had happened to me over the summer.

I called Rebecca, she said she'd like to join Mark, Lori, and me for the
evening this coming Saturday.  I thanked her and said I'd get back to her
later about when we'd pick her up.


* * *


JARED:


Yeah, I told Sis everything.  It's always been that way.  We don't keep
secrets.  She's the only person in the whole world who knows I'm gay.  I
told her when I was fourteen.  She suggested that I ought to tell Mom and
Dad, but she's never told my secret.  We've always been able to talk to
each other.  We've always been there for each other.  But she's the
"dominant twin."  She's much stronger than I am, emotionally.  She has a
kind of mental toughness, too, that I wish I had.  She's good at math and
science and German.  I like literature and playing the French horn.  That
makes me sort of a typical gay nerd, right?

Well, I don't want to be the typical gay nerd.  That's why I was glad to be
able to hang out with Jeremy and Richie.  They seemed to like me.  They let
me come along with them just about everywhere they went.  This past summer
was fun.  We'd go to the muny pool every afternoon to work on our tans and
look at the girls.  I pretended to be as turned on as they were.  They'd
strut around in their speedos, so I did that, too.  I even had some girls
come up to me and start a conversation. I guess they liked my bod in my
speedo.

I think we were laughing and talking with some girls when the Metz guy
saved the kid.  At least none of us saw it.  So we didn't know why he
suddenly had this bunch of young kids around him.  It was Richie, who else,
who pointed to Metz and the little kids.  He said only some damn fag pedo
would be spending time with children like that.  Jeremy laughed and said
Richie was right.  But then, Jeremy does that a lot.

We kept coming back to the pool every day, and every day there was the Metz
guy surrounded by more and more kids.  Richie asked the lifeguard, a
university dude named Alford, what the deal was with Metz and the kids.  He
explained how Metz had saved the little girl's life when he, Alford, was
too far away to get to her.

"I'm just glad," he said, "that Metz was there.  He save Bridget and he
saved my ass, too!"

"Big deal," Richie said.  "But why does a college guy like that let all
those little kids hang around him?  There's gotta be something wrong with
that, man!"

"What's so wrong with that?" Alford asked.  "Metz is just being nice to
those kids.  They think he's some kind of hero.  He seems to enjoy them.
It's all cool."

"Yeah, right."  Richie said, winking at Jeremy.  "Like one of us would want
to be surrounded by little kids every day."

"Yeah, right," Jeremy said.  They high fived, though I couldn't quite
understand why.

Well, anyway, Richie seemed to have this obsession with Metz.  Said he was
probably a pervert, that he might be molesting the kids when no one was
looking, or after they all left the pool.  After a few days, he convinced
Jeremy that we should do something.  I thought Richie was the one who was
sick, but I was afraid to say anything.  I knew how nasty Richie could get
when he was mad at you, so I sort of went along.  At least, I didn't
object.  I know now I should have, but I was afraid they'd turn on me, and
I wanted to be one of their friends.  They hung with a cool crowd, and
being their buddy let me hang with the same group.

I think my parents would have trusted Jess with a car, but not me.  And a
brother and sister can't very well share a car.  I don't think they could
have afforded two cars for us, at least not the kind of cars we would have
wanted to be seen in.  So, neither of us had a car.  Jess seemed cool with
that.  She had lots of friends who had cars, so she had no trouble getting
wherever she wanted to go.

With me, it was different.  Richie's car got me places.  Richie, I guess,
looking back on it, was the price I paid for those wheels.

It was Richie who came up with the idea of doing the stuff to Metz's car.
Jeremy thought that was a great idea.  Later, Richie managed somehow to
find out where Metz lived (there's some sort of campus directory he got a
hold of), and came up with the idea of the brick and the note.  What was I
going to do?  They teased me sometimes about being a wuss anyway.  One day
Richie actually asked me if I was a fag, which I vigorously denied.  I knew
if I objected to their harassment of Metz, they'd dump me as their buddy.
And what they were doing didn't really hurt anybody, did it?  At least
that's what I told myself at the time.

When Richie explained the plan to jump Metz in his parking lot, I did
object.

"Yeah, Jare, you little fag.  I might have known you'd be chicken about
this."

"I'm not chicken.  I just think beating up on the guy, three against one,
is too much.  After all, what has he really done that we know for sure?"

Riche looked at Jeremy and rolled his eyes.  "I always knew this guy was a
wuss.  What are we gonna do with him?"

"Well," Jeremy said, "either he's with us or he's not.  What's it gonna be,
Jare?  You our buddy or not?  We gonna get this fag and keep him from
hurting those kids or not?"

"Sure, Jeremy, I'm your buddy, it's just that . . . "

"Yeah," Richie said, putting his arm around my shoulder.  "Jare's our
buddy.  He's gonna help us, aren't ya, Jare?"

God!  I wish I had had the guts right then to tell him what a jerk he was.
But I didn't.  "Whatever you say, Richie."

He and Jeremy high fived.  "See," Richie said, "Jare's OK.  Now, let's get
this thing planned."


I knew the guy's first name was Steve.  But I had to think of him as Metz,
the pedo, the child molester, just so I could get through what we were
going to do to him.

The night we jumped him, he fought us.  He managed to kick Richie in the
balls.  Richie went down, swearing.  He was on his knees for a while.  I
thought for a minute he was going to puke, but he didn't. (Richie walked
funny for a couple of days.  When he got teased about it, he told people
he'd had an accident playing football.)  Meanwhile, Jeremy had his arm
around Metz's neck, with his elbow under Metz's chin.  He hooked a foot
around Metz's ankle, and he went down.  Then Jeremy started kicking him.
By that time Richie was up, and he was kicking him, too.  Metz went into a
sort of fetal position, trying to cover his head with his hands and his
package by drawing his knees up.  About then Richie looked at me and said,
"Well, Jare, are you in this or not?"

I was sick to my stomach seeing what they were doing to Metz, but I gave
him a couple of kicks, too, so Richie and Jeremy wouldn't be mad at me.


"So, Sis," I said, "that's what happened."

"God, Jare, I can't believe this!  Do you know how badly the guy was hurt?"

"I hear he spent a few days in the hospital.  Richie said he had lots of
bruises and some cracked ribs.  But Rich didn't know what happened to him
after that.  He never went back to his apartment."

"I don't know what the legal term is, but you've committed a crime.  Do the
police have any idea that you were involved?"

"Yeah, there was some sergeant with a strange name asking questions.  I
guess Metz told the cops about Richie's tat and said he saw that when
Richie fell down after getting kicked in the nuts."

"Then why aren't you in jail?"  Trust Sis to ask the tough questions.

"Because all three of us said we were at the movies that night.  It's our
word against Metz's."

Jess came over and sat beside me on the bed.  She took one of my hands in
both of hers.  "Jare, what you guys did is really bad, you know?"

"Yeah, Sis, I know.  But what am I gonna do now?"

"I think you have to tell Mom and Dad.  And then I think you have to go to
the police."

"Jess, I can't do that.  I'll probably go to jail.  That will be the end of
me.  I won't get to go to college.  Won't get to even graduate from high
school.  Sis, you've GOT to promise not to tell anybody.  This was just
between us!  Come on, promise me you won't tell a soul about this."

"Baby brother," she said.  (I hate when she does that.  She's ten minutes
older than me.)  You're in deep shit whatever happens.  But you'd be in a
lot less trouble if you stepped up and told the police about it."

"God, Jess, I can't do that.  I'm scared.  Scared of the police, scared of
what Richie and Jeremy might do."

"Well, look. I promise I'll keep quiet for a few days.  That's all I can do
for now.  Meanwhile, sweetheart, you need to do some SERIOUS thinking.  You
know what's right and what's wrong.  We were brought up right.  Think what
Mom and Dad would want you to do.  Think about everything we learned in
church."

Well, that did it.  I began to bawl.  I felt so bad, I just sat there on
her bed and cried.  She put her arms around me.

"It's OK, Jare.  We'll figure out what to do.  I will always love you, you
know."

"Thanks, Sis," I sniffled.  "I'm sorry I have been so stupid and let you
and Mom and Dad down.  But there's got to be some way out of this without
going to the police."

She smiled.  "We'll both think about it for a day or two.  After that, if
we haven't come up with something we can both live with, you're going to
have to fess up and face the music, Jare.  Just remember that Mom, Dad, and
I love you."

"You don't know all of it yet, Jess.  Tonight, as we were coming out of the
movie, we were surrounded by six real tall guys.  You know, like
professional basketball players or something.  They all had on stocking
masks, jeans, and dark tee shirts, just exactly what we had on when we
jumped Metz.  They said they knew we had done it.  They told us that if
anything else happened to Metz, they'd come after us.  And they said if we
were smart we'd go to the police and confess.  It was when they had us
surrounded and we were standing there craning our necks to look up to them,
that I got so scared I peed my pants."

"So, these guys know that it was you three who attacked Metz.  I suppose he
is their friend."

"Yeah, I guess.  By the way, as they were leaving, they said that no way is
he gay, no way is he a pedo.  So after all this, Richie was wrong about
Metz, and we've hurt an innocent guy.  I feel sick, Sis."

She picked up my hand again.  "Jared, I'm not going to remind you what
you've done wrong.  You know that.  But you have to really think about
this.  What is the right thing to do now?"

"Jess, I'm not stupid.  A total coward, probably, but not stupid.  I know
what I should do.  But I'm scared to death to do it.  Promise you won't
tell the parents?"

"Like I said, I'll give you a couple of days.  That way, we can both think
it over.  After that, I won't do anything without telling you."

"Thanks, Sis.  I had hoped for more, but I guess I don't deserve even that
much."  I stood up, kissed her on the top of the head, and started for my
room.

"Goodnight, Jare. I love you, babe."

"Love you, too.  Thanks."


The next morning at school I was at my locker, when Richie and Jeremy came
up.  Richie turned me 90 degrees so I was facing him.  Jeremy stood facing
my locker so he was blocking everyone else's view of what was happening.
Richie grabbed my balls and squeezed.  It was all I could do not to yell in
pain.

"Pissed your pants again lately, Jare?"

"Ugh, Richie, that hurts man, please let go."

"Well, if you are even thinking of telling anyone what we did, your balls
will be hurting a lot more than mine did after the bastard kicked me.  If
you keep your mouth shut, things around here will be cool, and we'll all
stay buds.  If you don't, you'll be in deep shit man.  Jeremy and I can see
to that."

He gave my balls another vicious squeeze.  I almost passed out.  Then he
and Jeremy walked on down the hall laughing while I rested against the
lockers and tried to keep from puking.


* * *


TIM:


I had no class for the fall quarter at 10:00, so I listed that as one of my
"office hours."  I was sitting there looking through my notes for the
upcoming intro to fiction class at 11:00 when Becky Stein appeared in the
dooryway.

"Busy, Dr. Mead?"

I stood up and came around the desk.  "Becky, I'm glad to see you!"  We
shook hands.  "Do you have time to sit and visit for a while?"

"Yes, I came by to say hello and see how you were doing."  She sat in one
of the chairs in front of my desk, and I took the other, turning it to face
her.

"I'm doing well, thanks, Becky. How about you?  How was your summer?"

"It was fun, actually.  I took a wonderful art course sponsored by Case
Western and the Cleveland Museum of Art.  Played tennis and swam in the
afternoons."

"I didn't know you live in Cleveland."

Becky, as I should have mentioned sooner, is intelligent, unusually
sensitive to others' moods and feelings.  She's about my height, with a
nice figure, curly brown hair, and hazel eyes.

She smiled and said, "Yeah, I live in Shaker actually.  And I hear that you
and Ced Jones are an item."

Woops!  "An item?"

"Hey, I think it's great.  Ced's a great guy, and a real hunk.  I just love
him.  He's got such a sweet disposition. It's wonderful you two are
together.  Oh, now you're blushing.  I'm sorry.  I've been too familiar.
I'd better go."

"No, Becky, please don't leave.  You just took me by surprise, that's all."

"What did I say that surprised you?  It's all true, isn't it?"

"First of all, Cedric is sharing my place with me, helping pay the rent.
Keeping me out of it for the moment, what makes you think Cedric is gay?"

She seemed to be enjoying all of this.  "Well, keeping you out of it, I've
known Cedric since high school.  I knew he and Francis Jefferson were
having an affair all during their senior year.  I was a junior at the time.
Ced was the star of the Shaker Heights baseball team, and Francis was an
all-state line-backer.  They were very careful, but I think a bunch of us
knew.  I also know that, unlike his roommate Mark Mason and his friends
Trey Withers and Chaz Greeley, Ced hasn't dated since he came here to
State.  Francis went off to Oberlin and found himself another boyfriend, I
hear. I watched Cedric look at you in lit class all last semester.  The boy
has a major crush on you. If you and he are living together, it must mean
that you've become a couple.  Oh, by the way, I imagine Trey Withers is
pretty unhappy these days, `cause I think he had a thing for you last
semester, too."

Stunned as I was by this revelation, I had to laugh.  "Becky, I'm glad I
don't cheat on my income tax."

"Why is that, Dr. Mead?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"Because if I did, you'd probably know that, too.  Nothing gets past you,
does it?"

"Not much, especially with people I like."

"Well, let's see.  What can I tell you?  Ced is my roommate.  We are
observing the university's non-fraternization rule in that he won't take
any more of my classes.  I'll tell him you send your good wishes."

Still looking like the cat who swallowed the canary, Becky said, "OK, I get
it.  You aren't out, and you aren't going to out yourself and the school's
star third baseman to me.  I understand.  But I want you to know, as I
said, I think it's wonderful that two such sweet guys are together."

"Thanks, Becky.  And I hope I can count on your discretion."

"You know it, professor.  Now, I do have another question, nothing terribly
personal this time."

"What's that?"

"I've heard wonderful things about the Lost Generation class you gave this
summer.  I see you aren't doing that this term.  Is there any chance it
will come up again in the spring semester?"

"Your timing is impeccable.  I've just heard that, on the strength of an
article I wrote being published in "Studies in the Literary Imagination"
and the fact that several university presses, including Harvard U. Press,
are actually considering my book on Dos Passos, I've been told I may offer
that course again in the spring term."

"Oh, that's wonderful.  I'm looking forward to that.  You'll have a big
class, I'm sure.  Like I said, everybody's been talking about it."

"How do they know, since that was a summer course?"

"Well, Trey Withers, who's now an English major I understand, and several
of the others have been raving about it.  Trey says it was the two classes
he had with you that made him decide he wanted to become an English
professor himself."

"I didn't know that you knew Trey."

"Well, he was in that same class with Ced last spring, the modern lit
class.  But Lori Reiter and I are good friends.  Lori and Mark Mason are
inseparable these days, and Trey has been a close buddy of Mark's since
they were freshmen.  So.  That's how I know."

"Wow!  You do have your finger on the pulse of things around the English
Department, don't you?"

She laughed.  "Call me a gadfly if you want.  But we have so many great
people, I just love being an English major.  Now, speaking of people, may I
ask you something?"

I tried to look serious.  "Rebecca, you may ask, but I won't promise an
answer."

She laughed again, and I had to laugh with her.  "I think this is one you
may safely answer.  I've got a date with Steve Metz this weekend."

I started to say something, but she held up her hand, so I waited.

"Now, I remember Steve as cocky and arrogant, but not much interested in
what was going on in that class we took together.  I assume you know Lori,
don't you?"

"Oh, yes."

"Well, you would, I guess, if Ced's ex-roommate spends all his time with
her.  I've known Lori since she first came here last fall.  She's an
incredible woman.  And it's Lori who pretty much pushed me into agreeing to
go out with Steve.  We're going to double date, in fact."

"OK, so where's the question in all that?"

"Lori says he's changed.  I hope to hell he has, because if he hasn't
there'll never be a second date."

"Well, girl, have I got a story to tell you!"

She laughed merrily at that.

"I think Steve wouldn't mind my telling you that he was one of only three
people who aced the Lost Generation course this summer.  He's gotten
interested in his courses now that he knows what he wants to do with his
life, and when he turns that first-rate mind loose on a course, he very
naturally does well in it."

She looked impressed.  "I heard something about him majoring in English."

"He thought about it.  But he's decided that what he really wants to do is
become a pediatric nurse.  So he has switched to the nursing program here
at State."

"Wow!"

"Now, there are some other things you should know that might help you
understand this remarkable guy you'll be dating."

I told her about Steve's saving little Bridget Sowards' life and about the
ensuing harassment and attack that sent him to the hospital.

"Steve has changed.  He's done a lot of growing up in these few months.  I
can't tell you what he'll be like on a date.  But I can tell you that I
like and respect him a lot."

Again, the merry smile.  "That's good enough for me.  With you and Lori
both vouching for him, I'll look forward to this weekend."

Then she stood, so I did, too.  She came over and gave me a quick peck on
the cheek.

"Thanks, Tim.  You and Ced are both pretty lucky. I'm happy for you."

And with that, she was gone, leaving me flabbergasted again.  `A kiss for
the prof?  Tim, huh?'  I decided Steve might, if he played his cards right,
be a pretty lucky guy.


That evening about 10:30 I was at my computer.  Ced came in and began to
massage the muscles of my neck and shoulders. "Mmmm!  That feels so good!"

Continuing the massage, he asked, "You about ready to knock off and come to
bed?"

"Yeah, babe, I can quit here anytime.  Just let me save this and shut
down."  Which I did.

"Now, baby, sit down a minute.  I learned some things today I haven't had a
chance to tell you."  He sat, and I swiveled the desk chair around to face
him.

"You remember Rebecca Stein?"

"Sure, she went to my high school, but I didn't know her very well then.
Still don't.  I see her now and then on campus, and she was in that class
with you last spring.  Why?"

"Well, she knew that you and Francis were a couple back in high school.
And she has figured out that you and I are a couple now."

He grinned. "No flies on that girl."  Then: "Shit!  How did she figure out
we're a couple?"

"She said she knew all semester that you had a crush on me, that she could
tell by looking at you.  She also said she knew Trey had feelings for me,
too.  Then she said that if you and I were living together, she was sure
you were more than just my roommate."

"Damn.  What did you do?"

"I stonewalled.  I didn't say anything to admit that we're lovers.  But she
knows."

"Do you think she'll keep quiet about it?"

"Yeah, I am pretty sure we can trust her.  She's an amazing gal.  Oh, and
she told me she has a double date with Mark and Lori this weekend.  Guess
who the guy is."

"Steve."

"How'd you know?"

"Hey, Mark, Trey, Chaz, and I worked out this evening.  You're going to
have to join us, you know.  We'd work your ass off, and you need it.  Come
to think of it, it's your upper body that needs a little toning up.  That
ass is fine.  Must be the running that does it!"

"Yeah, well, leaving my pathetic body out of it for a minute, you haven't
answered my question."

"Oh, sorry, I was thinking about your ass.  What was the question?"

"How did you know Becky has a date with Steve?  No, wait.  Let me guess.
Mark told you, right?"

He grinned and leaned toward me.  "Yeah, Sherlock, that's right.  Now, give
me a kiss!"

Some minutes later, I said, "Before this gets too intense, there's
something else I want to tell you about."

"OK, but it better not take too long.  I'm STILL thinking about your ass."

"Cool it, hot stuff.  This is important.  Besides, I know all I have to do
is wiggle my ass a little to get you heated up again later."

"You got that right!"

So, I told him about my lunch with Max and the tragic end to his affair
with Andrew.

"Oh, Tim, that's so sad.  Poor Max.  He's been keeping that bottled up all
this time?  It must have been killing him."

"Max is one of the strongest people I know, Ced, but he's obviously been
hurting."

Tears came to Cedric's eyes.  "Tim, I've got to make a point of getting
with Max.  I feel like such a bastard for the way I treated him.  He really
needed you and still needs you.  You're his best friend.  I know that.
I've got to apologize again and make him know that I understand what you
two are to each other.  And I want to tell him that I'm here for him, too."

"Cedric, I love you.  Please do talk with Max sometime.  Tell him what
you've just told me.  Let him know that he has friends who love him.  As I
told you, Trey already knows about Andrew.  I imagine Trey has told Chaz.
So I know our group will make a point of giving Max extra support."

"Yeah, and maybe we can find him a guy," Cedric said, grinning.

"Don't rush that.  I think it's better to just see what happens.  In his
work or through our friends, he just may meet someone.  Or . . .  I just
got an idea.  Trey says he and Geoff Benton went to a meeting of the SGA
the other evening.  Maybe Max should start going to that."

"What if he asked you to go with him?"

"What if he asked US to go with him?"

"Well, Tim, they there's safety in numbers.  I need to think about it, but
it's an idea.  Now, babe, get up and walk to the bedroom.  I want to see
that ass wiggle."

I did my best, and it got the result both Cedric and I wanted.


CODA:


[coda, fr. Latin cauda, a tail.  Music: a more or less independent passage
added to the end of a section or composition so as to reinforce the sense
of conclusion.]

Before they got from the computer room to the bedroom, Cedric had picked up
Tim and carried him to the bed, where he dumped him unceremoniously.  Tim
rolled onto his back and grinned up at Cedric.

"What now, Kong?"

Following the cue, Cedric beat on his chest with both fists.  "Me rapem
you?"

Tim, nearly convulsed with laughter, began to take off his shirt.

Cedric, who had found the gift of articulate speech once more, said, "No,
Jane, I'll do it."

"Hey, ape man, you have to decide whether you're Kong or Tarzan, but go
ahead and undress me if you want.  Just don't call me `Jane'!"  I'm a guy,
and I don't even want to fantasize about being anything else."

"Yeah, yeah.  I can't imagine being fucked by Jane.  So get up and let me
get you out of your clothes."

Tim sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up.  "OK,
you masterful brute, have your wicked way with me!"

"Oh, little man, you better believe I'm gonna do that.  I'm still thinking
about that hot ass of yours, you know!"

Cedric undressed his lover, who in turn undressed Cedric.  They pulled back
the covers on the bed and fell into it.

They wound up with Cedric on his back, Tim lying on top of him.  Tim began
sucking on that very sensitive spot where the neck joined the shoulder.  He
humped his hard cock against Cedric's belly.  Cedric licked his middle
finger and then stuck it up Tim's butthole.

"I love giving you hickeys, hunk, because on you they don't show."

"They do, too!  Maybe not as much on that alabaster skin of yours, little
man, but I've had to drape a towel around my shoulders in the gym a couple
of times."

"So, do you want me to stop?"

"Oh, God, no.  Don't stop, please.  That's fantastic."

So Tim licked and humped while Cedric continued to massage Tim's nut.  It
was such a great feeling for Ced to see his man nearly out of his mind with
arousal that he didn't mention that his hard, leaking cock was waving in
the air somewhere between Tim's legs and below his balls.  Given the
difference between their sizes, frottage wasn't possible unless Tim's face
was against Ced's chest.

Eventually, despite his frenzied sucking and humping, it registered on Tim
that something was wrong.  He wasn't hearing anything from his partner.

He pushed himself up with his hands and looked down at Cedric's beautiful
face.  "Baby, I'm being selfish.  I'm sorry.  Here, let me fix it."  He
slid down Cedric's by-now sweaty body until his face was between his
lover's pects.  Nuzzling around until he found a nipple, he began to suck,
and he resumed his humping.  This time, however, Cedric's substantial tool
was caught between their bellies, and Ced, too began to grind his cock
against Tim.

This went on for some time.  When Cedric felt that he was getting too close
to coming, he lifted Tim up.

"Baby, this is sweet.  But it ain't what I need right now."

"What, then?" Tim asked, frustrated to be interrupted.

"Let me show you."

Cedric slid out from under Tim, flipped him over on his stomach, pulled his
rump into the air, and began to tickle Tim's rosebud.  "I told you, honey,
that I need your ass tonight."

"Far be it from me . . . ."  He didn't get to finish because Cedric shoved
his head down against the mattress.

"It won't be far from you at all, so just shut up."  He began to rim Tim's
pucker, which opened quickly so that Cedric could insert his tongue into
the hot, pulsing, ass-ring.  Soon Tim was alternately telling Cedric never
to quit what he was doing and begging Cedric to fuck him immediately and
hard.

Cedric continued the tonguing until HE was ready to quit, and then he
turned his little lover over and mounted him.  They were able to look each
other in the eye, gauging each other's reactions as Cedric first entered
and then pumped in and out of Tim.

"Oh, God, baby," Tim said, "I love to watch your face as you fuck me!  I
can tell that this isn't just sex for you, but that you love me.  You love
sending me over the moon."

"Oh, shut up, professor.  You don't have to analyze everything," Cedric
said, grinning, as he slapped Tim's ass.

The slap did it.  Tim clenched his ass muscles, arched his back, tilted his
head back, closed his eyes, and shot volleys of cum over his stomach and
chest.  That, in turn, brought on Cedric's orgasm.  He, too, tensed, arched
his back, shoved his cock as far into Tim as it would go, and, shuddering,
released his load.  When he was once more conscious, he rolled over onto
his back, staying inside Tim, holding Tim on top of him.  Eventually,
though, Sneaky pulled out of Tim's ass with a soft `plop,' but neither of
them heard it.  They were too happy.

And there you have a "tail" with a tale of a tail.


[Chapter 28 should be posted a week from today. -- T.M.]